Small Tales for the Hurried - Number 3

She stood at the open coffin and stared. After a few moments she asked the mortician if she could have some time alone with the deceased.

“By all means,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said.

The woman reached into her handbag and retrieved her make-up kit.

“These morticians know nothing about making up the dearly departed. You look terrible. Here, dear, let’s try a little blue eye shadow to make them all take notice. Ah, that’s better. Just lovely. Now, a little eye-liner and some extra-long eye lashes should have them all elbowing each other over how wonderfully made up you are. Hate to say it, but you’re looking better dead than alive.

“Let’s see, yes, some ruby red lipstick should do nicely. There we are.”

She then tucked her hand under the dearly departed's head, lifted it ever so slightly and placed the curly blond wig on her dead husband.

“There you go, you cheating dog. Enjoy your damn funeral. You’re going to be the life of the party, honey bunch. Sorry I can't be there.”

She then pinched his cheek and left.